


summer sun, something's begun

by bellamythology (onemanbellarmy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, camp counselors, hints of Raven Reyes/Gina Martin, just lots of wholesome fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemanbellarmy/pseuds/bellamythology
Summary: “Five,” Clarke said in his ear, in lieu of the more traditional Boo!He might have startled anyway. Just a little. (Though if his sister and/or her campers asked, he’d happily deny it to his dying day — he had a reputation to maintain, after all.) “What?”“That’s how many kids have told you that you’re ancient, so far,” she explained with a smirk, digging her chin into his shoulder just because. But her tone was fond, and so was the look in her eyes as she lightly punched his shoulder before heading back to her post.It took Bellamy far too long to realize he was watching her go; he shook his head and renewed his attempts at a scowl. (But he couldn’t deny — at least to himself — that it warmed his heart to watch her laughing with his sister, even if it was at his expense.) or: summer camp AU with Bellarke + Linctavia + Raven as counselors with Octavia & Clarke & Raven BROTP( written for The Delinquent Fic Exchange )





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agreytracksuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agreytracksuit/gifts).



> Title from Grease.
> 
> Brownie points to everyone who catches the Bones reference ;)

“Any chance you guys could hurry it up? Campers will be arriving in, like, five minutes!”

Unimpressed, Octavia gave the clock a matter-of-fact glance, then raised an eyebrow at her brother. “More like thirty. Aren’t you the one who always tells me not to exaggerate, Bell?”

Clarke hid a smirk. “Yeah, Bellamy. Just because you’re a senior counselor doesn’t excuse hypocrisy.”

“Head counselor, thanks.” He huffed, scrubbed a hand through his already messy curls, opened his mouth to retort further. Then he thought better of it, ultimately leaving without another word. If it weren’t for the backdrop of this lively domestic minidrama (i.e., the impending rush of summer camp attendees), he’d likely sulk for days. As it was, he might not talk to any of the other counselors — all of whom were complicit in their silence, as far as Bellamy was concerned — for the rest of the day.

“Has he always been this ridiculous?” With a snort, Raven finished checking her stack of T-shirts and initialed the bottom of the cabin roster, laying the paper on top. Of the three girls, she somehow got along best with Bellamy — maybe because where Octavia was his sister and Clarke was said sister’s best friend and they were obligated to argue with him whenever they got the chance, Raven had no such duty. That was what made her own bickering with him more lighthearted, she maintained.

The others laughed, and Harper set her sheet down. “Shouldn’t you be out there with them, Raven? You’re a senior counselor too, right?”

A scoff this time. “Technically. But those boys will do fine without me; they can do some work for a change. Plus,” she added in an undertone to Clarke and Octavia, “Wick’s out there with them.”

They made sympathetic faces at the mention of her last summer’s ex/hookup/whatever the hell they were, and Raven felt a little better. If she was going to be stuck at Camp Jaha with the last boy she’d bared her heart to, at least she had girlfriends to help her defend the walls she’d put back up.

Attending an all-girls school during the academic year always left Clarke with a bit of a culture shock at the start of each camp season. She could honestly say she didn’t miss the boy drama — girl drama was no less exhausting, but at least it was a species of storm that she knew how to navigate — but she did miss her friends, all of whom attended public school, with its oh-so-lovely coeducational system.

This summer was gonna be fun.

 

“You’re in _high school?_ ” The first-year camper’s eyes widened as she went on, “That’s so _old!_ ”

Bellamy didn’t have to turn his head to see his sister and her friends snickering from where they stood waiting to meet their campers. “Someday you’ll be seventeen too, Fox. Someday very, very soon.” This last was muttered under his breath as he flipped through the pages on his clipboard, locating her name with practiced ease. “But for now, you’re eleven and you're in Monroe and Harper’s cabin.”

Her excitement was clear as she ran off to trade news of cabin assignments with her friends.

“Five,” Clarke said in his ear, in lieu of the more traditional _Boo!_

He might have startled anyway. Just a little. (Though if his sister and/or her campers asked, he’d happily deny it to his dying day — he had a reputation to maintain, after all.) “What?”

“That’s how many kids have told you that you’re ancient,” she explained with a smirk, digging her chin into his shoulder just because. “Considering only eight campers have showed up so far, that’s technically a majority. Democracy’s all about the _voice of the people_ , as you taught us last summer, and so, _ergo ipso facto Colombo Oreo_ —”

“That’s not the phrase, and that’s not how you’re supposed to use it, either,” he grumbled, disentangling himself. Her chin was _sharp._ “Besides, even if your logic was valid — which it’s not — I’m calling undercoverage bias. Since you haven’t heard from the kids who haven’t showed up yet, owing to the fact that they’re, y’know, _not here yet,_ your conclusion is invalid.”

“Nerd.” But her tone was fond, and so was the look in her eyes as she lightly punched his shoulder before heading back to her post.

It took Bellamy far too long to realize he was watching her go; he shook his head and renewed his attempts at a scowl. (But he couldn’t deny — at least to himself — that it warmed his heart to watch her laughing with his sister, even if it was at his expense.)

 

The bonfire in the middle of camp was finally starting to die down, along with the counselors’ first-day-back high. Most of them had been coming to Camp Jaha since they were old enough to be campers, and it was like a second home to them; even for those who hadn’t, the enthusiasm was contagious — as was the rebellious thrill of sneaking out after hours with the other counselors.

As Raven pulled her perfectly-toasted marshmallow off her stick, Octavia nudged her shoulder. “Who’s that girl Bell’s with, do you know?”

Beside them, Clarke’s gaze snapped up from the sketchbook she’d been straining to focus on. Those two were incredibly obvious, despite their constant sniping, and it was only a matter of time.

Raven spared her friend a waggle of her eyebrows and a snicker, both of which went unnoticed, before directing her own attention across the campfire. “Oh, hey, that’s Gina. C’mon, I’ll introduce you — she’s one of the other senior counselors.”

As the three made their way over, Octavia wrinkled her nose. “She’s awfully pretty. You don’t think —?”

“No way,” Raven interrupted, shooting a pointed look at Clarke, who was looking more uncertain than either of them could remember seeing in a very long time. “She’s way too good for him, and he knows it. Hey, guys!”

The pair looked up, looking convincingly unbothered by the newcomers. Or Gina did, at least.

Bellamy’s eyes narrowed. “What are you three up to?”

“Can’t a girl come say hi to her brother?” Octavia made a face at him, which he returned. (Which boded well for Clarke, Raven noted offhandedly, never having actually been worried. If Bellamy really was into Gina, he’d never let Octavia goad him into being anything less than cool.)

“There’s always an ulterior motive with you,” he retorted, but the affection was clear even in his tone. “Gina, this is my sister, Octavia, and her best friends, Clarke and Raven. Guys, this is Gina. We were just talking about how we’re train the kids into our personal army so we can overthrow Kane.” He managed to keep a straight face for just a minute before all five of them burst into laughter.

Everything seemed funnier and bolder and more possible at night, under the influence of starlight and the rush of breaking the rules.

 

Most of the campers were still asleep when Octavia forced herself out of bed and into sweats; her co-counselor Roma roused just enough to offer her an _I’ve got this_ gesture as she eased the door open. (The latter was thrilled to be partnered with the sister of the hottest guy in camp, who not-so-coincidentally happened to be almost every girl’s summer relationship dream; the former was not so delighted to have her partner drooling over her brother nonstop.)

Her watch — paid for out of her own money: coaching and refereeing little kids’ soccer games, gift cards traded to friends for cash, hours and hours endured at the local Starbucks — beeped the hour, and out of habit she glanced at it while she laced up her sneakers. Only 5 a.m. She had plenty of time before she had to get her campers to the mess hall for breakfast.

Years ago, Clarke had actually been the one to suggest that she take up running. Despite Octavia’s initial skepticism, it had become part of her morning routine before long. It was a means of focusing her energy, which Bellamy would point out that she had in excess, waking her up and boosting her mood: setting a good tone for the day.

As she approached the senior counselors’ cabins, someone else stepped out. Too tall and broad to be Bellamy — who preferred swimming to running anyway; he was probably already in the lake or ready to be, unless he had head counselor duties or something — the guy was also dressed in running-appropriate clothes.

Octavia hesitated before approaching him. (Director Kane did pretty extensive background checks on all his staff before they were allowed anywhere near his beloved camp, so she knew she was safe, but there was something about the quiet strength of his posture that awed her.) “Hi there.”

He looked up, a soft smile lighting his eyes. “Hello. You must be Octavia.”

She wrinkled her nose, playfully. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before; I’d totally remember if we’d already met. I hope. Let me guess, my brother warned you about me.”

“Your reputation, actually,” he assured her. “Who’s your brother?”

Growing up with an overprotective asshole constantly hovering, Octavia knew an opportunity when she saw it. “No one important. You going for a run?”

“Yes, I usually do, in the mornings. What about you?”

She smiled. “Same here.”

He seemed to hesitate. “Would — Do you have a favorite route to take? It’s my first year here, so I’m not all that familiar with the terrain.”

“I’d be glad to.” Inspired by the friendliness in his eyes, she added, “Haven’t had a running buddy in a while; all my friends think I’m crazy.”

“Mine too. I’m Lincoln, by the way.”

 

Shutting the door on his way out of Director Kane’s office, Bellamy let autopilot/internal GPS take over as he mulled over the latest camp problems.

Water splashed over his flip-flops, and he startled. (Twice in as many days? Clearly he was starting to lose his touch.) The best part? He didn’t have to look to know who it was. But he did anyway.

Sure enough, Clarke was grinning at him from the lake, safely submerged to just below her shoulders. Her hair was that darker blond it got when wet, and it seemed she’d already been there for a while.

Trying not to imagine the swimsuit she might be wearing, Bellamy tugged his hoodie over his head. He took just a second to stretch (and maybe appreciate the feeling of Clarke checking out his bare chest), then joined her, shivering at the temperature difference between water and air.

Whatever they might say about or to each other on dry land, they got along wonderfully when the lake was involved. (This statistic remained unaffected by the current standings in the push-the-other-into-the-water game they liked to play during camp. Nothing certain but death, taxes, and Bellamy-and-Clarke being ridiculous.) This was perhaps one of the most important factors in their decision to make morning swims an everyday thing, a _them_ thing.

“How’s it going?” Clarke asked, like she wasn’t personally responsible for the s’mores-throwing that had taken place after the campers had all fallen asleep and the counselors had sneaked back out. It was stuff like this that made

“Late night, but you knew that.” As head counselor, Bellamy had pretended not to know it was happening but ended up cleaning up the aftermath anyway because that was who he was as a person, and these were the choices he’d made.

She splashed him in lieu of replying; he grabbed her leg and dunked her under in retaliation. When they surfaced, breathless, they were both laughing.

With Clarke grinning at him like she currently was, Bellamy found it hard to regret anything. Sleep deprivation was more than worth the sight of that smile, the sound of that soft laugh.

 

Niylah raised an eyebrow as Clarke slipped back into the cabin: the towel wrapped around her was soaked. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of a towel?”

“Probably.” Clarke’s grin never wavered; if anything, it widened in fond amusement. “I was _trying_ to get dry and get back here, but Bellamy threw me back in. Bodily.”

Niylah’s eyes widened. “Are you going to tell Kane?”

Clarke laughed. “Of course not!” Realizing that her co-counselor was new to camp, and therefore unaccustomed to the Griffin/Blake dynamic, she reassured her, “It’s just how we are, how we’ve always been.”

“If you’re sure.” Niylah still looked uncertain, but she went back to getting dressed, leaving Clarke to rummage through her duffle for a fresh towel and change of clothes.

Even as her campers started getting up — aged eight to ten, they bounced out of bed with unholy amounts of energy that would make any self-respecting teenager automatically more tired at the sight — Clarke’s good mood managed to last the rest of the morning.

 

A glance at the schedule posted outside the mess brought a smile to Octavia’s face: her cabin had arts and crafts this afternoon, which was always her favorite. And odds were, Clarke would be there — it was her favorite too, and her cabin was on free time today so she was free to roam.

As the girls entered the clearing, Octavia pulled her hair up out of the way. The younger campers tended to prefer messier activities, like paints and papier-mâché and such, and while she was happy to participate Octavia really wasn’t fond of spending hours in the shower trying to clean gunk out of her hair.  Finishing, she looked around for the instructor and did a double take. “Lincoln?”

Calmly he tucked a small notebook into his back pocket. “Hi. I’m assuming these are your campers?”

“Yeah.” She shook her head at the kids still running around, fondly remembering when she was at their age and endless energy level. Combining two cabins was always a recipe for disaster, but she could admire the attempts to make activities coeducational. “Kids! Take a seat so we can get started. Pay attention so Lincoln can tell us what we’re doing today.”

At the sight of the big guy standing at the front of the classroom, they quieted. He smiled reassuringly, holding up a roll of butcher paper. “So this is your first arts and crafts session of many, and I want to try something a little different. We’re gonna let you guys get into groups of up to four, of your own choosing. When you’ve done that, come on up here and get a length of paper — also of your own choosing. We’ve got paints, charcoals, oil pastels, and all sorts of other supplies for you to work with. I’d like to see what you guys think art is, so have fun with it!” That said, he let them at it.

Octavia heaved a sigh of relief, hauling herself up onto the table. “Would this by any chance be easier on the counselors than more traditional arts-and-crafts lessons?” she teased, stretching casually so that her camp T-shirt (cropped exactly to current counselor trends) rose a few inches. Against teenage boys, this tactic almost never failed. (Call it academic curiosity: after all, it was impossible to forget, even for a second, that Lincoln was hardly one of her gangly, awkward classmates.)

To her pleasant surprise, Lincoln’s eyes actually drifted to the exposed skin for a few seconds before he looked away. A few moments passed before she realized she couldn’t read his expression, and worry began to set in. Did he think less of her for that little trick?

But then he struck up a conversation about art, and school, and plans for the future, and Octavia let it go for now.

 

The end of camp always came more quickly than anyone was ready for, and now it was just a couple of days away. A sense of underlying urgency began to permeate the previously tranquil atmosphere; newly minted best friends braced themselves for separation while camp veterans resigned themselves to returning to mundane everyday life.

Unlike many of her co-counselors, Raven had managed to last the month without hooking up with anyone, whether it be a rekindled flame or a new one. Sure, she’d spent plenty of time getting to know Gina, and a significantly smaller portion of time flirting with Roan.

But as hot as the other senior counselors were, Raven discovered that there was something nice about being set to start college in the fall: knowing that she was starting a new chapter in her life, she wasn’t looking to form any kind of attachment. She’d had plenty of experiences — some of which had formed the basis of essays that had gotten her into U of Arkadia, making all this possible — and she would survive even if she missed out on a few this year.

And it really didn’t feel like she was losing, anyway. Without the distraction of a serious crush or attraction, she found more undiluted enjoyment in the same camp activities that she’d participated in for years, along with a general feeling of contentness.

Raven had come to realize what she already knew: she didn’t need anyone to rescue or complete her. She was enough, just by herself.

 

After one final warning to be careful and not fall over the edge “because the paperwork will be a freaking pain for me and Bellamy will actually murder me,” Octavia let her campers loose to explore the view from the peak. She was a fan of physical activity in general, and she had always thought that this hike was especially worthwhile.

The fact that Lincoln had joined them absolutely didn’t hurt, either.

When Octavia found a log to sit on and stretched out her legs, he joined her, maintaining a respectful distance between them.

“How have you been?” she asked, playful. They’d seen each other just hours ago, having found that they were incredibly compatible morning-run buddies.

He played along, smiling. “Quite well. You?”

“Not bad, but…” Octavia paused, then decided to go for it. Camp ended tomorrow, and she was dying to know. “So you said the other day that you were happy to listen if I ever needed advice or anything.”

He nodded, expression shifting from cheery to concerned. “Of course. Is something bothering you?”

“There’s this guy.” She was watching him carefully, and he definitely seemed disappointed — just a little and only briefly, but she’d gotten to know him quite well, and she caught it. “He’s really sweet, and smart and thoughtful and hot, but tomorrow might well be the last day I see him in a long time. I really like him, though, and —”

Lincoln’s jaw was definitely clenched now. “You should tell him how you feel,” he gritted out. “‘Life is too short’ and all that, right?”

“Right.” Octavia was more than happy to put him out of his misery — anyone who knew Lincoln knew that he wasn’t the type to play games, and it would really be self-defeating to let him stew in jealousy at this point. “So, Lincoln. I really like you.”

He froze, then slowly turned to look at her, expression extra guarded. “Really?”

“Really, really.”

She’d thought he had a nice smile from the first day she met him, but it turned out that she hadn’t seen anything yet.

 

 “Honestly, I didn’t expect that you’d be here. Of all the activities you could pick to supervise…”

Flicking sweat-dampened curls out of his face, Bellamy grinned. “Really? You knew that I play.”

“Yeah, but…” Clarke lost her train of thought as the campers fell silent and still, prompting Bellamy to dash into the middle of their circle to find out what happened.

Apparently deciding he had it under control, the kids broke ranks and returned to their spots on the field, giving her a clear view of Bellamy helping one of the younger boys to his feet, checking him over for injuries, then sending him on his way with a high-five.

“Seriously?” she demanded as he returned to lean against the fence with her. “If he has any kind of open wound, it could get infected if you don’t clean it out, and —”

“Relax, princess. A little bit of dirt won’t hurt him, and it seemed to me that what he wanted most was to get back into the game.” Bellamy lowered his voice. “Besides, he’s a boy. You think his friends are gonna let him live it down if he has to go the nurse for a little tumble?”

While unconvinced, Clarke ceded the point with a grudging nod.

“So, seriously.” The grin had returned to Bellamy’s face, and she had to glance away before friendly eye contact turned into staring. He asked, “What did you expect I’d be doing, if not refereeing the soccer game?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Hiding in your cabin with a history book?”

He laughed, sudden and bright, and Clarke couldn’t have hidden her own smile if she wanted to. “I do have a text to finish before classes start, along with another translation of _The Iliad_ that I’ve been meaning to try. How about you, any summer homework. Or, no, wait, let me guess. The princess finished all of hers during the first week of summer vacation, naturally.”

“No, actually.” Clarke ducked her head, unusually shy. “Turns out, my subconscious was really excited for camp this year. I had a couple of pretty telling dreams, and during the day I kind of had trouble focusing.”

“Huh.” Bellamy slid a little closer, enough to lightly press his shoulder against hers, reassuring. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I missed you.”

She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but once she had Clarke braced herself for a reaction — any reaction. What she didn’t expect was Bellamy’s casual “Yeah, I missed you too, princess.”

“No, I mean, I _really_ missed you. You’ve known me for years, Bellamy, and sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself, and —”

“Clarke.” He glanced at the kids to make sure they were distracted with their game before lightly pressing a finger to her mouth. (She resisted the instinctive urge to snap her teeth at him, however playful — any idiot over the age of twelve could tell they were having a Moment.) “I do think I know you, and I know this stuff is hard for you to admit to, much less say, so I’m just gonna go for it.”

At her soft nod, he continued, “I really like you. I think about you when you’re not around, and when something awesome or horrible happens you’re the first person I want to talk to. I hate thinking about you giving your heart to some other asshole who doesn’t deserve it — I’m not sure that I do, either, but I do know that I’m willing to work for it. To earn it.”

“Oh, Bellamy.” She rested her cheek against his shoulder, . “You already have. You always have.”

Fully aware of the campers just feet away from them, she just managed to restrain herself from kissing him breathless like she’d wanted to for so long. They’d have all the time in the world, later, when they could be alone.

 

“I can’t believe we’re already done.” Raven initialed the bottom of the last checklist and handed her clipboard off to Bellamy, who stacked it with the others before returning to sprawl on the grass next to Clarke.

“I think you mean finally,” Octavia teased, leaping onto Lincoln’s back. He took this with his usual solidarity and good humor, automatically steadying her. “At long last, those kids won’t be around to spy on us anymore.” She looped her arms around her boyfriend’s neck, leaning around to kiss his cheek.

Waving good-bye to Gina, who was on her way out to the parking lot, Raven added to her friends, “It’s been an pretty good summer, hasn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Clarke agreed without looking up from Bellamy’s hair, which she was running her fingers through.

Normally Octavia would’ve mimed gagging, but she was distracted. Besides, she and her brother had — after a shouting match or two — come to an agreement that they wouldn’t interfere with or comment excessively on each other’s relationships. They were both happy, after all, and that was all they’d ever wanted for each other.

“So, you guys wanna go into town?” Octavia suggested. “Dropship should be having their annual tasting around now, and you know there’s nothing I love more than free ice cream.”

“Bet I could think of a few,” Bellamy teased, and Clarke grinned too.

Raven joined in. “Yeah, Octavia, aren’t we better than any ice cream?”

Enjoying having all their eyes on her, drama queen that she was, Octavia pretended to consider before replying in the negative, convincing absolutely no one.

They all knew the real answer.


End file.
